In the Sunlit Silence
by MidKnight Rider
Summary: SG1 says good bye to Janet Fraiser. A tag to Heroes, some missing scenes and a follow up.


**A/N: This is another excerpt from my Sunshine and Shadow series. I didn't write out my OC this time but she has only a minor role and I wanted to keep the contrast of relationships. This begins when Jack wakes up in the infirmary after the rescue mission.**

**(0)**

Jack opened his eyes and took in his surroundings with the swift reflexes of too much time in the field and too much military training. _The isolation room and he hurt like the tail end of a black-out drunk…_ Oh this could not be good.

He didn't even try to move. Then he realized he wouldn't have been able to even if he wanted to. He was trapped by three very heavy bodies.

_His team_….

Sam had her head on his forearm, just below his shoulder. Her torso had the rest of his arm pinned. Her arm was across his chest, just above Daniel's, both just above the bandage he could feel wrapped around his midsection. He shifted his eyes but all he could see was the ordered chaos of blond hair. Her face was pressed into his ribcage. He could feel the slow rise and fall of her breathing in the rhythm of sleep.

Jack's gaze slid to the other side to look at Daniel. His head and chest were mostly on the bed, up against Jack's hip. Daniel's head was pillowed on his other arm. His glasses were half knocked off his face. The mattress was sagging under the sleep-heavy weight of his upper body.

The slightest lift of Jack's head and he could see Teal'c. He wasn't entirely certain that Teal'c was sleeping, even though he knew the Jaffa often did now that his symbiote was gone. It might have just been a very deep state of mediation, though Jack had never seen Teal'c meditate with his head down. He'd really never seen Teal'c with his head down and his arms folded, just about crushing O'Neill's shin bone. The Jaffa's weight had the whole bottom of the bed tilted downhill.

He put his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. He'd also never seen his entire team so wiped out they slept through someone or something moving right next to them. He was stealthy. But he wasn't that stealthy.

_Crap_, he thought, _I hope whatever it was, it was worth it._

He tried to move again and got a growl in response. Probably Teal'c. Jack grunted back. Carter lifted her head, blinked.

Jack got lost for a moment, watching the awareness come into those huge blue eyes, the joy the relief the eagerness the fear the regret the sadness…. More emotions than should ever be on one face at one time.

"Sir," she said and he wondered again how she always managed to pack so much into that single syllable.

_Danger, Jack O'Neill_…. He looked away quickly.

"Daniel," he hissed and got only a grunt and shift of weight in response.

Jack finally elbowed Daniel in shoulder.

"Get off," he said, which had no effect on Daniel at all.

He shoved at Daniel again, even though it caused a rather blinding flash of pain up his side. _Holy crap, where was that morphine drip thingy they usually gave him?_

Daniel forced his eyes open, took his glasses off to rub at his closed lids for a moment and then put his glasses back on. He didn't get up or move the arm draped over Jack's ribs.

Jack took the risk of trying to move his leg. It might as well have been trapped under a boulder.

"Teal'c," he hissed, "Yo! Get off."

Sam hadn't moved so much as a muscle but Jack couldn't bring himself to push her away. Not quite. Not yet.

Teal'c sat up like a jet being fired off the deck of a carrier, instantly alert.

"O'Neill," he said, in that voice that sounded like a lion purring.

"As flattered as I am that I make such a great pillow, _could you all please move!"_

They were off of him in the next instant, sitting up and staring at him as they came out of an exhaustion-dazed, grief stricken sleep.

"Actually," Daniel said, rubbing the back of his neck, "You're a little lumpy."

Jack studied Daniel while trying to keep his face carefully neutral. _Christ_, the guy looked like day four of a three-day pass; or like he'd just had two beers, take your pick.

For some reason, looking into Daniel's heavy, blood shot haunted eyes, it all came back to him in a rush.

SG13's recon had gone as FUBAR as it got and they'd gone in under heavy fire, vests stuffed with that ceramic crap the scientists had engineered. He'd felt like a damned science experiment. It was heavy and interfered with the way he usually moved and was probably the reason he'd taken the blast he'd been trying to avoid full front instead.

It was also probably why he had survived it.

He looked at Sam again and knew she had watched him remember; knew she had thought she was watching him go down for the final time, down for good, down forever. He lifted one hand and stroked it once down the side of her head.

"It's okay," he said.

Tears washed into her eyes.

"No," she said, "It's not."

Jack's warning bells rang like a carillon.

"What?" he said, trying to sit up, trying to lift his head.

Sam was fighting tears and he knew her throat was too constricted to speak. Jack looked at Daniel and found him suddenly stone-faced, emotion bricked up behind the wall he used to deal with tragedy he couldn't bear. Even as he watched Daniel sat back, folded his arms across his chest and pulled up the drawbridge.

Teal'c was gray-faced, his brow drawn and his eyes shadowed. But he was the one who finally answered. "Janet Fraiser was mortally wounded in the line of duty. She did not survive."

The shock wore off quickly, replaced by a deep burning rage. The medics should be off limits. The docs were sacred; at least on paper. He knew that part of the Geneva Convention by heart. "_Members of the armed forces specially trained for employment, should the need arise, as hospital orderlies, nurses or auxiliary stretcher-bearers, in the search for or the collection, transport or treatment of the wounded and sick shall likewise be respected and protected if they are carrying out these duties at the time when they come into contact with the enemy or fall into his hands."_

Firing on a medic was a war crime.

Reality was a different matter and the damned Goa'uld hadn't been at the Geneva Convention.

Then a second realization hit Jack like an air strike. Daniel had gone with Janet to assist.

Jack dropped his head back onto the pillow and let a long slow string of curses run through his mind.

_Jesus, Daniel_…. He wasn't just behind a wall. He was behind the Great Wall, probably being protected by dragons. Jack knew he would have to deal with it sooner or later but he couldn't right now. He was still burning with his own rage, concentrating on keeping his expression calm for the sake of his team.

Carter was sitting utterly still with tears streaking slowly down her face, not making a sound.

Teal'c had also not moved, more stone-faced than Daniel. Jack struggled against the pain to sit up.

"One of you find a doc to sign me out of here," he growled.

"Jack." "Sir." "O'Neill." Simultaneously in various degrees of disapproval.

"Do it or I'll go AMA," he snapped.

Daniel got up. Without a word he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Jack was startled. He had expected Carter to obey first. He sank down again and stared at the ceiling, fighting a wave of pain induced nausea. Someone better sign him out of the infirmary and hand him a bottle of vicodin in the next ten minutes or so help him there was going to be hell to pay…

_Damn it_….. he thought, grinding his teeth together and reaching once more to touch the side of Carter's tear-streaked face, _You don't shoot the goddamned medics…._

(0)

Jillian had two little black dresses. She had the flirty V-neck satin one with the chiffon overlay that she wore when Daniel took her out dancing. But she also had another one that only came out of the closet for funerals. It was simple, as basic as a dress could possibly be, conservatively scoop necked, and she usually paired it with a gray blazer.

It was an outfit she kept in an opaque plastic bag, hanging in the back of the closet. It was one she hated getting out. It existed for one purpose and one purpose only – to mourn.

She'd made Daniel buy two black suits for the same reason. His funeral suit had been in the second garment bag she had brought from home. He was dressed in it now, rummaging around in his third dresser drawer and getting agitated.

"I can't find my tie," he said, slamming the door and turning around.

In spite of the circumstances, he was so blindingly handsome she couldn't breathe for a moment. It took her a moment but she got her voice working.

"I'm sure it's fine. You look wonderful," she said.

Daniel's gaze swept her. The dress hugged her. The blazer made it too business-like for his taste but it was required for the occasion. She had her hair in a sleek ponytail, a simple gold chain around her neck, black shoes and stockings.

She was so lovely it broke his heart. She was pale, but calm. The judicious application of some makeup had helped hide the traces of the tears that had been shed the last two days.

"Are you ready then?" he asked.

"I guess we have to be," she said.

They met Cassie and Sam at the intersection just before the elevators. One look at Cassie and Jillian exchanged an alarmed glance with Sam.

Cassie looked lost, shipwrecked and adrift. Sam had talked to her on the phone and kept her close ever since she and Jack had brought her back to the Base. It seemed that Cassie had been going through the motions. She'd been strong and silent because most of her role models for human behavior had been military and she thought that was the correct reaction to gut-wrenching, soul-shredding loss. The reality that her mother was really gone was sinking in, right now, during the walk to the Gate Room.

Daniel stepped in close to Cassie as they waited for the elevator, flanking her with Sam on her other side. The doors opened and before anyone could go inside Cassie broke down.

A desperate whimper turned into a choked sob as she turned and melted into Sam.

"I can't," she wept, "Sam I can't."

Cassie was clinging to Sam and shaking as if buffeted by hurricane winds. Daniel closed ranks behind her, his hands on her shoulders, his expression grim.

"Please, please, Sam, I can't."

"It's okay, Cassie," Daniel said, "You don't have to."

Sam gave Daniel a panicked look, eyes wide.

"She doesn't," Daniel said firmly. "This is for the military. This is for the SCG, not family unless they want to be there and she doesn't."

Cassie managed to look up at Sam, pale and trembling, her expression a heart break of uncertainty.

Jillian put her hand on Cassie's arm.

"I'll take her back to our quarters," she said, "Come on, Cass."

"Are you sure?" Sam seemed torn between guilt and gratitude, "I have to be there, I don't have a choice."

"I can take her," Daniel said.

"No, Daniel, you should be there," Jillian said. She gave him a very pointed, understanding look, "You want to be there. I'll take her."

Daniel stepped back and let Jillian ease Cassie out of Sam's arms. The elevator doors slipped shut again.

"It's all right, honey," Sam said, "Go with Jillian."

As she became aware that no one was forcing her to attend the memorial, Cassie gulped back tears and turned to lean heavily on Jillian.

"I'm sorry," she said, starting to sob again.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Sam said.

Sam and Daniel watched Jillian walk back down the hall with an arm around Cassie. Cassie was clinging to Jillian as if she was going to fall.

"Are you all right?" Daniel asked, quietly.

"No," she answered, bluntly, "I'm not and nothing has been right. But we have to go do this."

Daniel nodded. They had to do it and he actually wanted to. This was for Janet – the final honor given by the military tradition she had loved. It would hurt but he would do it.

There were no holidays under the mountain. There were no weekends, or off-times. Anything could happen at any moment. The Goa'uld wouldn't grant them a cease-fire so that they could mourn.

But they would do this now, seize the time they had and give a proper goodbye to a beloved human soul.

(0)

Several days later:

A commercial jet traveling through the night with nothing outside the small rectangular windows was a singularly isolated world. The lights were dimmed in first class. They were flying back home at the end of a long and difficult day. Carter was curled up in the window seat with her back to him and her head on a small pillow propped against the wall. She had fallen asleep almost as soon as their meal had been cleared. The arm of the seat served as a sharp dividing line between them. Jack had asked for a blanket. She'd moved and made a small noise when he covered her with it, but then had fallen back to sleep immediately.

Across the aisle, Daniel had also claimed the window seat. He was wearing a pair of headphones that practically shouted 'Do Not Disturb' and staring out the window. Jillian was also curled up asleep, just like Sam. But they had pushed the seat arm out of the way so she could lie across Daniel's lap, cushioned on his arm and a similar tiny pillow. Jack had heard her murmur something about being cold. Instead of asking a flight attendant for a blanket Daniel had shrugged out of his black suit jack and put it over her, covering her leg as she folded them onto the seat and tipped over to rest on him.

Jack had watched from the corner of his eye as Daniel tucked his coat in around her in a surrogate embrace, knowing it was still warm and hearing Jillian's quiet sigh.

It was a private moment shared in a sheltered space. It was the outward display of inward intimacy. Even staring out the window and avoiding everyone else Daniel had his hand on Jillian, cupped over the shape of her arm through the fabric of his suit coat. He had allowed her into his body space, something Daniel never did when he was closed up behind the walls of 'Fort Jackson'.

Jack felt a moment of jealousy that shocked him. He had forgotten that kind of intimacy; or trained himself to live without it. He tried to find a more comfortable position in the chair and deliberately didn't look at Carter, deliberately didn't wonder what it would be like to replace the blanket with his uniform jacket and rest his hand on her arm.

There was no point in wondering. For one thing he had surrendered his jacket to the flight attendant and it was hanging in a closet now, waiting to be reclaimed when they landed. It was hanging beside Carter's. Maybe that would have to be enough.

His body still ached from the hit he'd taken on P3X-666. He'd skipped the vicodin for this trip, wanting a clear head. He could usually deal with pain. He'd been dealing with it on one level or another for decades. He knew all its sizes and shapes.

He fixed his eyes on the wall in front of him and struggled with the need to check on Carter. She was sitting right next to him. If she had so much as exhaled too deeply he would know.

Knowing it would hurt, he scooted up and turned just enough to look behind him at Cassie and Teal'c. Their seats were reclined as far as they would go. Teal'c had his hat down over his eyes. Cassie was asleep with a frown on her face and her arms folded tight over her waist. He felt a pang of sympathy as he turned back around and sought a new comfortable position. The day had been long enough for battle trained and tested military personnel.

For an eighteen year old who had lost her mom, it had been grueling. It had started at 4am when they had woken up, dressed, eaten (as much as they didn't want to) and then met the government limo in the parking lot that would take them to the Funeral Home. From there they had followed the hearse for the two hour drive to the Denver Airport so that Janet's body could be flown to Washington DC and interred at Arlington National Cemetery. SG1 was accompanying her. Knowing the kind of military structure and discipline he and Carter would be called upon to exhibit and Teal'c natural somber reticence and Daniel's continued self-imposed emotional exile, Jack had asked Jillian to join them, to be there for Cassie. Jack knew Hammond had wanted to go but the NID was still breathing down his neck and the documentary team hadn't left.

The two hour drive had been followed by a four hour flight. By then O'Neill had been more than ready to sink into the wide seats of first class, with a silent thank you to Hammond for the extra expense.

The flight was on time, landing at 2pm DC time. Two hours after that they had arrived at Arlington to find Janet's family waiting for them and Jack had watched as her civilian life and her military came together in a clash of grief and support.

Cassie had left Jillian and gone straight to the arms of her grandmother – a petite Southern belle with the look of the steel magnolia in her dry eyes and iron jaw. It had been easy to see where Janet got her looks and her charm. It had been easy to look into the face of the older woman and see the senior citizen Janet would never get to be. He had gone to offer his condolences and their eyes had locked. Deep brown and too much like Janet's, she had looked back at him with the same haunted, contained sorrow he had seen in the eyes of too many military widows and widowers, too many mothers who had lost their children in the service of their country. She was coming out to Colorado Springs at the end of the week to help Cassie close up the house.

It had taken every bit of his military discipline to get through the brief and sincere conversation with her. No one should have to bury a child.

No one.

After that the family had seemed to close ranks. A host of aunts and uncles and cousins had arrived. The service had gone off with military precision and ceremony. Sam had repeated her speech. Jillian had sung Amazing Grace to a bagpipe accompaniment.

Daniel had thawed long enough to be his normal charming, sympathetic self to Janet's family. He had read a poem by the famous World War II pilot John Gillespie McGee.

It had started all the tears flowing fresh and full of pain. He didn't dare look at Carter, who had been standing with ramrod attention at his side. He knew she was barely maintaining her control.

When Jack thought about it he realized Daniel had never even glanced at the paper in front of him. He knew Daniel had read the poem on the plane. He must have memorized it, that fast.

After seven years, he really should be over getting caught off guard by Daniel's genius.

Jack closed his eyes and heard the echo of Daniel's rich cadence in the hot, sticky August afternoon.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through the footless halls of air.

Up, up the long, delirious burning blue

I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, or even eagle flew.

And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Jack looked out at the black sky beyond the glass and gave her his final goodbye…

_RIP, Janet_….

(0)


End file.
